General Dillon, who was of the earliest batch of suspects, was amongst the first to visit the imprisoned Moderates in the chamber which had been set apart for them.[21] Camille was still fuming, and Danton playing the part of moderator. Lacroix was debating with himself whether he should cut his hair, or wait till Samson dressed it for him. Another of the party, Fabre d'Eglantine, lay sick in bed, tenderly nursed by his comrades. He was saved for the scaffold, for the turn of the Moderates was not long delayed. At the brief trial of the party, Danton and Camille showed a characteristic front to their judges. "You ask my name!" thundered the Titan of the Revolution. "You should know it! It is Danton, a name tolerably familiar in the Revolution. As for my abode, it will soon be the Unknown, but I shall live in the Pantheon of history!" "My age," answered Camille, "is the age of the good _sans-culotte_ Jesus Christ; an age fatal to Revolutionists!" Returning to the Luxembourg after condemnation, he said to Benoît: "I am condemned for having shed a tear or two over the fate of other unfortunates. My only regret is that I was not able to be of better service to them." Camille wrote with one of the wittiest pens of his day, and busied himself in the Luxembourg with a comedy called _The Orange_, the model of which was Sheridan's _School for Scandal_. He had evoked in a greater degree than any other of the Moderates the sympathies of the suspects in the Luxembourg, and up to the last there was a general belief in the prison that both he and Danton would be saved by the intervention of Robespierre. But Robespierre could not, if he would. Executioner Samson received in due course his order to proceed with them—a document drawn up in the style and almost in the terms of a commercial invoice—and made his own note in pencil at the foot: "One cart will be enough." Even at the steps of the guillotine, Camille turned to denounce the crowd. "Leave that canaille!" said Danton, quietly; "we are done with it." To the headsman Danton said, as he stood on the scaffold: "You must show my head to the people. It is a head worth looking at." Footnote 21: "This general," says Nougaret, in his dry way, "drank a great deal. In his sober moments, he played at trictrac."—Vol. ii., p. 61. This hecatomb of the Moderates sent a thrill of fear through the Luxembourg. Whose turn next?